Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
There are candles around the windows lighting the room. “I wanted this night to be special.”
“Our six weeks finally?” I say.
“No, I got this back for you. Take a seat.” I sit down and lift the lid. When I do, I see my initials carved into the lid. I’d done that when I was seven. I spin around and jump off the bench and into my husband’s arms, tears spilling from my eyes.
“I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe it. Well, I can, but I thought it was gone forever.”
“You said it was special to you. I had it tuned and polished. They finished it yesterday, so I had it delivered today.”
“How long have you been planning this?”
“Since you told me about it.” I kiss his face over and over, clinging to him like a monkey and making him chuckle. Soon the kisses and chuckles soften and deepen, turning into pure passion. Our love turns to lust, and we fall to the plush rug below and make love for hours.
When we finally come up for air, I say, “We should get Miles.”
“We should. I can only steal so much of his milk,” he says, winking before sucking on my breasts and making my tits leak before lapping up my breastmilk. “Does a body good.”
“I’ll get the breakers back on for the two rooms.” He goes into the other rooms and the lights work around the rest of the house, and quickly all the power comes on. It was just the two rooms he messed with. I blew out the candles and then sat behind my old piano and began playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, which Elijah recognizes from the famous part.
“You make that look so effortless.”
“Says the computer genius. I barely know how to use my phone, and I’m part of the tech generation.”
“It really does take me by surprise, but, hey. It’s a good thing. I like hearing you play the piano, and it’s something you get to show our kids while I show them how to break through firewalls.”
“Hey, none of that nonsense.” I wag my finger, but I’m sure he’s only partially kidding—or so I hope so.
Cyber
Damn it.
Teach a kid to break through firewalls at a young age, and I have a fucking criminal mastermind on my hands. He pretends to be innocent, but he’s a natural-born felon, and a handsome devil as well. Miles wears three-piece suits, expensive shoes, killer haircuts, and never a watch without a second off.
“I believe they call it karma.” Martín stands next to me with a beer in his hand as we watch our wives chatting each other up. When they met twenty-five years ago, they became best friends. We ended up traveling to Vegas so many times over the years that we bought a home there to stay in when we did go visit. Andrea even held a two-month show in Martín’s hotel as a special favor. Maybe it was a bad idea because Vegas is where a lot of the mob thrive and where my son learned some of his ways.
“I wouldn’t say shit, Martín. He’s after your daughter,” I say, chuckling. A frown forms over his face. Roxie and Emiliano became the godparents of our son Miles and they love him. Hell, Martín had a hand in teaching my son to be ruthless, and now my boy has gone after his beautiful daughter.
Our women approach us as he says, “You’re crazy. They’re just close, like family.”
“Yeah, right. What do you think, Rox?” I ask her.
“Sorry, Milo, our daughter’s had a crush on him for the past six years at least.”
“I’m not ready for this shit.”
“Tell me about it.” We’re all gathered around in Steeleville for our annual barbecue, and my son isn’t here yet because he’s busy probably killing someone. Unlike many of the Rider kids, he’s not a biker. No, my son prefers a different life. None of us say a word, even though we worry. His mother most of all, but I know him. He’s smart and brutal. I accidentally raised a mobster in the making.
Perhaps Martín is correct and it’s karma, but what can I do? I love my son and my guys and have committed a lot of crimes over the years. Hell, half of my son’s empire is built on the funds I’d gotten from the Bakersfield coffers that I drained over two decades ago.
A snarl comes from the entrance. “Where is she?” Miles is seething. The party is only getting started.